


Wait And See

by vtn



Category: Electronic Dance Music RPF
Genre: Id Fic, Multi, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-26
Updated: 2010-05-26
Packaged: 2017-11-17 07:35:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/549148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vtn/pseuds/vtn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Richard will never see him again, the man with the dark eyes and the clove cigarettes. It's so unlikely, they tell him, that you ever even get to see Kurt Rush DJ. He likes to keep a low profile.</i>  But thanks to Kurt's new girlfriend Vanessa, the two do meet again, for a night of debauchery and music-making in Richard's summer house by the sea.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wait And See

**Author's Note:**

> So this came about when I kept teasing theastronomymod on LJ about how she should write Erol Alkan/Aphex Twin slash, which she steadfastly refused to do, and finally I decided to take things into my own hands. 
> 
> For whatever reason, the way it seemed to work out was if I set it in an alternate universe where Erol Alkan never drops the Kurtis Rush alter ego (and the secrecy that surrounds it), and also because I say so he dates my original character Vanessa RK, who amusingly is not actually a self-insert in any meaningful way although she could just as easily have been. 
> 
> I described it on Livejournal as "6000+ words of pure, unedited, uncut stream-of-consciousness id vortex pr0n woven together with something that might have been plot if I'd been paying attention"; in other words I just wrote whatever came to mind and ignored my inner censor. As such, it may be enjoyable only to me. :P
> 
> The title I just grabbed off my iTunes as I didn't originally post it with a title; it's from a song by Holy Ghost! An AWESOME song by Holy Ghost!, so go listen to it.

Kurt is covered in sweat and his head is pounding. He hands over his earphones to one of the other eager DJs, a teenage girl in a tight black minidress, and steps out for a fag break. He's not usually a smoker, but someone's given him a pack of Djarum Blacks for his birthday and he loves that shit. He pushes his balaclava up past his mouth and inhales greedily.   
  
"Those cloves?" Kurt turns around. There's Richard. "The Aphex Twin" himself. He played an odd, glitchy techno set earlier, while the warmth of the day was still clinging to the outside walls. He looks almost pretty, sweaty as Kurt with orangey curls clouding around his sunburnt face.   
  
"Yes sir," Kurt says, the cigarette in his teeth. He takes it out between his fingers, taps the end. "Drag?" He almost giggles, stops himself. "Shotgun you?" He probably shouldn't be hitting on strange men, but he's a little bit high on life at the moment.  
  
"Sure," says Richard. He puts his hand out and Kurt passes over the cigarette. "So," says Richard after he exhales, "C'I see?" He makes a motion with his hand like lifting, raising. Oh, he wants to see Kurt's face, doesn't he. Kurt takes back the cigarette.   
  
"Mm," Kurt says dismissively.   
  
"I'm just curious," says Richard. "I won't tell anyone." Kurt leans back against the wall casually, listens to the bass from inside. "I like your work—I just wanted to know something about you."  
  
"Well," says Kurt. He's finished his cigarette, so he pulls his mask back down. Arf, it smells all of sweat and rot on the inside; he'd better go home and stick it in the wash soon. "Here's something: it's my birthday."  
  
"Happy Birthday!" says Richard. He claps Kurt on the back. Ah—he's drunk. "Listen—do you want to come back to mine and get high? I live in this brilliant, ginormous warehouse. It's dead cool."   
  
"Mm. I'm busy tonight, but...I'd love to. You should also come round mine and say hello. I live in a church."  
  
\---  
  
Richard will never see him again, the man with the dark eyes and the clove cigarettes. It's so unlikely, they tell him, that you ever even get to see Kurt Rush DJ. He likes to keep a low profile. That's such bullshit, Richard thinks: while it does make Kurt seem interesting, why shouldn't you just try being interesting on your own merits?   
  
Of course Richard likes to occasionally harbor other, more exciting fantasies: he's on the run from the law after he murdered his entire family and bound unholy tomes with their skins — he's an illegal refugee from a war-torn Balkan country trying to save money to send to his starving family— he's actually someone extremely, profoundly famous, from 'Busted' or some such boy pop group — he masks his face because he's a god whose beauty would blind any mortal — he masks his face because he's hideously disfigured and he likes to teach little girls to sing opera.   
  
But even the (probably very pedestrian) truth would satisfy Richard. He just wants to understand Kurt. He's been drawn in by the mystery, it's true. And the shape of his mouth. Richard would like to kiss those lips, somehow find himself with Kurt in a compromising position. He's always curious. Curiosity hasn't killed him yet.  
  
\---  
  
Kurt has been seeing the girl who DJed after him at the party. Her name is Vanessa though she DJs under the name of Miss Euphemism, and she's a bit older than she looks. Somehow despite Kurt's connections to the underground, Vanessa knows even better how to wrangle a spot behind the decks at an illegal rave or a new-new wave afterparty. The two of them sleep while the rest of London works away the month of June.  
  
In the hottest part of summer everyone rushes for the coast; the rocks and the breeze of Kernow call out with their ancient song. Vanessa wears white dresses instead of her usual black. Kurt takes Polaroids of her dancing in fairy rings by day and in loops of fluorescent light from glow sticks by night.   
  
"Guess who's invited us over?" She's come rushing to Kurt, beaming, at about three AM, her cheeks flushed with joy.  
  
"Who?" He rests his hand on the back of her neck affectionately.   
  
"Only Richard James!  _The_  Aphex Twin," she says. "He talked to me. I was trying to find a cord that would connect my Octave Kitten to the output, and he came up to me saying, he's never seen one of those before and where did I get it, and now he wants me to come round and look at his synths."  
  
Kurt raises his eyebrows. "So in other words, he's actually invited  _you_  over."   
  
"Yeah, but, what you have to understand, love—" Her eyes glitter. "Is that anywhere I get invited, you're invited too." She kisses him on the chin, through his mask. So then he can smile and get excited too. Clasped hand in hand, they follow the directions Richard gave Vanessa, chattering and talking in anticipation.   
  
"Doesn't he live in London?"   
  
"Yeah but he has a place down here where he goes for the summer, has since he was a kid."  
  
"Be funny if his mum and dad were there."  
  
"Ha ha, can you imagine that? Aphex Mum and Dad. What kind of people could have produced such a strange kid? They must have been mad scientists or something."  
  
"Nah, I bet they're perfectly normal."   
  
"Hey how come you still haven't brought me round your parents', hm? Still nervous about introducing me to the folks?"  
  
"They're very traditional."  
  
"Hey, I'm at least a girl, they should be happy about that."  
  
"Yeah, but you're...you know."  
  
"What? A slag? Too young? A dirty Jew? A maths student?" All of those, and none.  
  
"You're just...never what anyone expects, and bloody impossible to predict. It's what I like about you."  
  
\---  
  
Pretty young Vanessa, the synthesizer goddess, has brought along a boyfriend. And Richard has to admit—it doesn't disappoint him that he's not going to get laid this evening (well, morning)—he's intrigued by a girl who legitimately just wants to come over to his summer house and play with synthesizers. He's also intrigued by the fact that her boyfriend is Mr. 'Phantom of the Disco' himself: Kurtis Rush.  
  
"Hi Richard," she says, beaming, "—can I call you Richard?—this is Kurt. He loves synths too."   
  
"We've met," says Kurt, holding out a hand for Richard to shake, "D'you remember, at...I don't even remember where that party was, but..."  
  
"It was your birthday..."  
  
"And I had cloves."  
  
"Yeah," says Richard. He cocks his head to the side. He realizes he's about to ask a phenomenally stupid question but he asks it anyway. "Vanessa, has he shown you his face at least?"  
  
Vanessa breaks into giggles. "Honestly, Richard, do you think I would be fucking him if I didn't even know if he had a nice face or not?" She must be drunk, by the way she talks to Richard like she already knows him well. "Actually, I met him on his birthday too," she says with a smile. "Fell head over heels, almost instantly. Do you believe in love at first sight?"   
  
"I do, and I think you both are about to experience it," he says. He gestures them in. Vanessa leaves her heels by the door and dances into the house.   
  
\---  
Kurt rubs his eyes. He's just been taken on a whirlwind tour of what looks like a collection room in a synth museum. But it's not just the vintage, retro-futuristic noisemakers Vanessa loves, though Richard has those in ample quantities, it's also the newest, sleekest, hybrid analog/digital what-have-yous, it's Vocoders and guitar pedals and a full-size harp, restrung to look like something dystopian and twisted. His heart feels warm and wide when he sees Vanessa's expression, blissed out like a kid in a candy store—never mind, he never sees candy stores anymore, more like a kid in a video game store.   
  
Of course he's impressed too, but he's never shared Vanessa's delight for the deliberately, specifically tactile component of synths. He likes the sounds, but he's content to get them with software too when he can; Vanessa likes to  _touch_  things.   
  
She likes to touch Kurt, too. She's currently squeezing his hand in her sweaty one, which makes it feel like his own hand has transcended this mortal plane and is in a special heaven just for hands. Being in love: it's nice.  
  
It's nicer when Richard runs off with a promise of homemade pizza, leaving Vanessa and Kurt alone at the wide kitchen table. Kurt brushes aside some of the assorted papers piled on top and side on the table's edge so he can kiss Vanessa's forehead.   
  
"Kurt..." she says, and then, softer, "Erol," which is the name his mother calls him by. "I'm so turned on." She slides her hands up under his mask, touches his cheeks. He feels her hands run roughly over his day-old stubble. Her body is so close to his now, shaking slightly from the effort of propelling herself upward toward him. She pushes his mask up an inch, another inch. Intellectually, he wants to stop her, but the wild Cornish night won't let him, and she unmasks him, sighing contentedly as she runs her hands through his long hair, rubbing her nose against his nose, her lips finding his. Instead of thrusting her tongue past his, Vanessa just opens her mouth and sighs into his mouth, carefree.   
  
"Aha," says Richard's voice. Vanessa and Kurt both crawl down from the table, Vanessa looking as embarrassed as Kurt feels. "The masked man, unmasked." Kurt feels very naked in this moment, but he also feels much less itchy and hot than he was before, so he leaves his mask off. "I thought for sure you'd have a horrifying third eye or something."  
  
"I have," says Kurt vaguely, rubbing his forehead between his eyes. "I can see into the future and everything."   
  
"And what do you see in the future, O Oracle of Soho?" asks Richard. Kurt blinks under his penetrating stare. He wonders if Richard has X-ray vision and he is using his superpowered eyes to image Kurt's brain activity. This is a man who gutted and mutilated a harp. Maybe he's one of them transhumanists, with parts of his body replaced by robot parts. Maybe he's turned parts of his body into synthesizers!  
  
"Pizza," says Kurt, eyeing the tray Richard is carrying. Richard gasps, makes like he's about to drop the pizza.   
  
"How did he  _know_? Vanessa, please tell me he uses his powers for good!"   
  
She beams. "He uses his powers for  _all sorts of things_." She runs over to Richard and gets pizza for them both.   
  
\---  
  
Richard offers to put the two up for the night and they graciously accept. Kurt rests in the big bed he's given them to share while Vanessa stays in the basement toying with Richard's synths. He keeps a watchful eye on her from his computer desk across the room, but she clearly knows what she's doing.   
  
"Hey, which tracks on the Roland can I reprogram?" she calls, gesturing at a drum machine. "If any?"  
  
"Anything after three," he calls back.   
  
"And hey," she says, making her way over to him and looking a little wary, "One more thing." She crosses her arms over her chest.   
  
"What, what is it?" Somehow this skinny young girl in her gothic princess dress has caught him utterly in her web, so no matter what she accuses him of he's fucked, even if he's totally innocent.  
  
"Kurt? Is my boyfriend. And you can't have 'im. I saw the way you were looking at him, so don't pretend like you don't know what I'm talking about."  
  
"What?" But she's right. Oh God, she's right. He was even more beautiful than Richard had imagined, in the scenario where he imagined Kurt's beauty was a dangerous weapon. He's Mediterranean, with heavy eyebrows and deep-set features, but this boyish charm in his face anyway. Light stubble on his cheeks. An intense expression of the eyes and the mouth. Thick lush black hair that shines like fresh ink and curls at his chin. He'd like to—oh there's a lot he'd like to do but he can't. "I wasn't going to—"  
  
"On the other hand," she says, looking him up and down, "I like you, so I'm sure some kind of arrangement could be made."  
  
"I'm not sure I understand." Vanessa glances over his shoulder at the program he's writing, squints, looks back at him. "What do you mean, arrangement."  
  
She rubs her hands together and steps closer to him. "I mean like, kiss me," she says, her dark brown eyes fixing on his. When he doesn't do anything, she says, "That is, if you want to. It's just," and she squirms a bit, "Your synths are motherfucking sexy, and so are you."   
  
"So." Richard finds himself grinning at the sheer ingenuity of it. "You'll only let me at Kurt if you get to be there too, is that what it is?"   
  
"Mm," she says, and he takes her face in his hands and kisses her lips. She sort of slides into his lap and puts her fingers under his waistband. Richard nearly squeaks against her mouth and tangles his fingers in her hair, kisses her harder. Her hands dive further down; he undoes his flies and lets her take hold of his penis, working it with her fingers until it stiffens and his foreskin slides back. She rubs her thumb over the head of his cock. He's thinking she is the dirtiest girl he's ever met, turned on by vintage noise and scruffy males. Of course maybe that's why she calls herself Euphemism. But she's not even a euphemism, she's the actual word.   
  
"Thing about Kurt," she says while she's delicately handling Richard's scrotum, "He's always getting very caught up in his work. It makes me deeply frustrated at times."   
  
"And what are you going to do with all that pent-up frustration, pray tell?" says Richard, playing along. He nuzzles under her chin and she laughs a little.  
  
"Let's go bang my boyfriend!" she says triumphantly and leaps off of Richard's computer chair.   
  
\---  
  
Kurt is lying spread-eagled on a bizarrely comfortable arrangement of two stacked mattresses, lightly dozing. He's sent Vanessa off to try and seduce Richard, which (after conferring with Vanessa) he has discovered both she and he have wanted to do all evening, or at least since Richard gave him that x-ray stare. He slips in and out of dreams of dancing and analog sex.  
  
In fact he's not sure if he's dreaming when Vanessa pokes her head in the door. Her dress has slipped down to the point where half a dark ring of areola is visible above the neckline, her hair is lightly mussed, and her cheeks are bright red. She signals an inquisitive 'thumbs-up-or-thumbs-down?' and he laughs and rubs his groin in response.   
  
"Randy boy," she whispers at him with a sly smile, and she steps back out to retrieve a similarly messy and flushed Richard.   
  
"Ello, gingey," Kurt says with a little playful wave. Richard runs a hand through his hair, scratches his head.   
  
"Kurtis Rush," he says. He has an erection, Kurt notices. Looks like Vanessa had her fun, but not too much fun yet. "I mean, I'm going to have sex with you, yeah, but there's a few things I want to know first. How come you wear a mask all the time?"  
  
"He's extremely pretty, and I'm the jealous type," Vanessa jokes, flinging herself down on the mattress to nestle into Kurt's side. "It's like how women who respect themselves ought not to show too much skin." She bends her legs and slides her skirt up her thighs. "Men can't control themselves otherwise." Kurt puts his hand on her thigh, feeling a little protective but mostly just aroused.   
  
"He is at that..." Richard mutters.   
  
"I don't like fame," says Kurt. "Don't like too much attention." Vanessa rolls onto him and he strokes her hair, cradling her body between his knees. "I mean, I like the attention I'm getting right now, but...there's people as ask me to make music for them and it might put me in a position to get a bit...up myself. You know."  
  
"Commercial stuff?" asks the Aphex Twin.   
  
"Right."  
  
"I've had the same problem," Richard confesses. "I guess people see me as a bit of an enigma as well."  
  
"I could never do that," says Vanessa. "I'm very up myself as it is." She laughs. "I'd rather be larger than life if nothing else. I want to be adored by everyone. Maybe it means I'm secretly insecure but I prefer to think I'm just fantastically vain."   
  
"Exhibitionist," Kurt says, smirking at her. She slides her dress down, exposes her breasts.   
  
"You bet."   
  
"Can I?" asks Richard, reaching forward. Kurt narrows his eyes; Richard's looking at  _him_.  
  
"Ask the lady," he snaps.  
  
"I  _was_  asking the lady," says Richard, shaking his head, "I just got distracted by your eyes. They look like they were made with a calligraphy brush." Vanesssa nods at him and he climbs down onto the mattress, kicking off his shoes and leaning in to kiss the corner of Vanessa's mouth. She laughs and flips him onto his back with that same agility that always surprises Kurt, dances her fingers up the line of coarse red hairs that lead from his waistline to his navel.   
  
Feeling suddenly protective, Kurt takes Vanessa's hips in his hands and spoons her. His hands meet Richard's for the first time over her bare breasts.   
  
"Hello boys," says Vanessa. She leans into Richard's face and smiles against his cheek. Kurt realizes his dick is pressing into her back, which puts her in the rather enviable position of being between two boys who are raging hard for her and each other. "Listen," she says, "I only agreed to this because I wanted to see you two snog, so will you get on it?"  
  
"That's not what you told me," Richard pouts.   
  
"Okay, maybe it's a slight exaggeration, but," she balls her fists at her sides and scrunches her face up, "I really want you to! Can't you please?"  
  
She squeezes herself out from between them and slides Richard's shirt up his back. Kurt watches her fingers kneading into his skin. Then he leans in and his mouth meets Richard's, tasting pizza and beer. It brings back strains of his latent teenage alcoholism. His hands are all over Richard's body and Richard's on him, combing through his hair and sliding down his chest and feeling for his cock like Richard wants to guess at its size and shape for a contour drawing. And then Vanessa climbs on top of them and sticks her tongue in between Kurt's and Richard's lips so that momentarily Kurt is kissing both of them.   
  
Holy Hell, that is magic.  
  
\---  
  
Richard unzips Vanessa's dress and she wriggles out of it, now clad in nothing but a beaded choker necklace and knickers with the Sanrio penguin character. He puts his hands on her stomach, his fingers splayed out and the tips meeting at her navel. She whines in the back of her throat and pushes back against him with her hips, grinding her body down on his erection. He cackles and rolls onto his back so he can pull down his trousers, which Kurt helps him with eagerly. Richard could get used to staring into those coal colored eyes all day. Kurt pulls off his own shirt; his chest is mostly bare but for a small patch of black wiry hair between his nipples. Richard nestles his head into Kurt's chest, marvels at the way his red hair looks against Kurt's olive skin.   
  
He feels something against his back—it's Vanessa's finger trailing down between the cheeks of his arse, teasing his entrance. His brow furrows: this is weird. But then she goes back to massaging his back and kissing his neck, and suddenly he wants her hands back on his sensitive areas. Kurt reaches around Richard like he's embracing him, but it's actually to get his fingers inside Vanessa's panties. She draws in her breath sharply and then says "Kurtis" at near-scream level. Richard is suddenly both glad he's soundproofed the basement, and anxious to hear what other noises she's capable of making. Can he put her in overdrive? Send her through a Vocoder, a flanger or a phaser, fifty layers of reverb?  
  
"Vanessa," says Kurt, removing his fingers from her underwear. He pauses to lick them clean, making her shiver against Richard's back. "Your call. Who does what?"  
  
"Erm," she says, her face turning bright red, "I don't even know...I'm in another galaxy right now, call me later." He pouts at her. The three of them sit up at the same time, like a unit. Vanessa crawls over Richard's legs toward Kurt, not without palming his cock for a split second first. "First off, how come Kurtis still has his trousers on? I feel like this should be remedied."   
  
"Is that his real name, Kurtis?" Richard asks while Kurt pulls his tight jeans off.   
  
"No, but it's all you need to know," Kurt cuts in.   
  
"Show him your cock," Vanessa says with a smile on her lips, almost bouncing on the bed. Kurt slowly, teasingly slides down his Y-fronts over inch after inch of flesh. His penis is swollen and thick and looks practically as long as Richard's forearm. He has cock forever. Kurt runs a hand over the shaft, pulls it upwards, lets Richard see his tight balls at the base, nestled in a bed of thick black hair.   
  
"How do you even get that inside her?" he asks despite the rudeness of the question. Vanessa just laughs and shrugs, kicks out her legs on the bed like an excited child. "How old are you, like, twelve?"   
  
"Fuck off," she says playfully, and she keeps watching Richard out of the corner of her eyes while she kisses Kurt's neck, right below his ear, and then licks down to his shoulder.   
  
"Richard, while I am a dirty, dirty man, paedophilia is a bit beyond me," says Kurt chidingly. "Sodomy is bloody great though."   
  
"Well if you're so bent on sodomy—pardon the pun—I'm sorry, but I'm not having that anywhere near my arsehole, meaning it's you who's going to have to bend over and take it."   
  
"Gladly," says Kurt, "though I really think you should open your mind some time."  
  
"Your girlfriend here," he gestures to Vanessa, "was already trying to stick her fingers up my bum." Kurt turns and smiles at Vanessa.   
  
"I'm also fairly sure you liked it, with the way you were begging me after I stopped," she says.  
  
"I was not begging! Was I?" He turns to Kurt for affirmation.  
  
"Yeah I think you said 'please' in fact," says Kurt.   
  
"Hmm, hmm," says Vanessa with an air of superiority. "Have you got any KY in this den of sin of yours? Trojans?"  
  
"Try the drawers," says Richard.   
  
"I bet you'd like to try my drawers!" She gets off the bed to search around in the room's various tables while Richard leans in and presses his mouth against Kurt's.  
  
\---  
  
Kurt is so hard and needing that when Vanessa finally gets back with lube and condoms he feels like it's been an hour. He rolls onto his side and lets Richard spread his legs apart, try first a finger and then another, the coldness of the lubricant welcome in the sweaty heat of the mattress. Vanessa is everywhere, kissing and licking his neck, cradling his dick between her palms then for one brief second between her thighs. Richard curls in tight to Kurt's back, his breath hot on the back of Kurt's neck and his chest hair scratchy against Kurt's skin.   
  
"I haven't been with a man in a while," Richard muses while he pulls his fingers out of Kurt, making Kurt gasp and pant.   
  
"Oh lord," Vanessa breathes, kissing Kurt on the mouth and squeezing his hands in hers. The head of Richard's dick, now sheathed in latex rubber, presses against his hole.   
  
"Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me," Kurt sort of chants under his breath. He slides his hand between Vanessa's legs and feels her wetness through the fabric of her knickers. She squeezes her legs around his hand, practically humping him for friction. It's at that point when Richard grabs Kurt's hips and pushes into him, going quickly as if he has no regard for Kurt's pain or pleasure. He cries out in a glorious mixture of the two, pushing himself back onto Richard's shaft, letting it penetrate him deeper. Richard starts a slow rhythm, thrusting so deep that Kurt can feel Richard's balls against his arse.   
  
Kurt slides down Vanessa's panties and rubs his fingers against her. She is slick and wet to his touch and his fingers slip inside her almost effortlessly. She moans and clutches his neck in her hands, kisses him sloppily. She takes his penis in her hands and strokes it roughly, curled in so close to him that the head of his cock is streaking fluids across her stomach. Putting a finger to his lips, she leans in and whispers, "I'll be right back." Then she puts her tongue in his ear briefly, making him laugh and rock back hard into Richard's dick. The pressure on his prostate is almost enough to finish him right there, but he grits his teeth and doesn't let himself come yet.   
  
Vanessa climbs over the two men and while Kurt can't see exactly what she's doing, he has a feeling she's getting her fingers into Richard, especially with the way he's moaning and squeezing Kurt's hips. Richard shifts his rhythm and Kurt realizes the brilliance of what's happening: Vanessa is fucking both of them.   
  
"I love you," he says, and Richard laughs and says "love you too." He then says "ouch," so Kurt figures Vanessa's somehow enacted her revenge. Then Richard's hand is on Kurt's cock and Kurt feels like his whole body is light. He's coming almost before he knows it, and in a flash Richard has slipped out of him and is crawling up Kurt's legs, his eager tongue curling around the head of Kurt's dick and his lips following. Vanessa is behind him, gently rubbing his sore entrance and massaging his buttocks, her tongue lapping at the sweat on the back of his neck. Richard's mouth is soft and hot, and he keeps gently sucking at the head of Kurt's dick even after it's gone almost completely soft. When he slips his mouth off, he swallows and then licks his lips, grinning like a cat.   
  
Richard lies on his back, his arms spread out, a map of burnished-orange hair charting his limbs all the way to his extremities and his stiff penis. He stretches, the smell of sweat exuding from his underarms.   
  
Vanessa crouches next to him, her arms pressing her breasts together and making her nipples stick out even more than they already do. Richard turns his head to the side and puts his mouth around one, making her throw her head back with a combination of laughter and pleasure. Kurt slides his hands up the thick hair on Richard's legs. Richard's hand goes to his cock and he presses it against Kurt's face. Kurt laughs and sticks his tongue out to the side to press against Richard's shaft.  
  
"Er," Richard says, "You do realize that was just up your arse, right?"   
  
"Fair point," says Kurt. He makes a face, and then uses his hands to slide the condom off of Richard's dick. Vanessa is somehow immediately at his side with another one, and he pulls it on with his hands and mouth, taking Richard as deep as he can. Richard lifts his hips upward off the bed and further into Kurt's mouth, while Kurt bobs his head up and down eagerly. Vanessa resumes her position at Richard's side, her hands rubbing up and down his thighs. Kurt slides his mouth up to the very tip of Richard's dick, and Vanessa leans in and presses her tongue to the shaft.  
  
"No way," says Richard, laughing incredulously. "This is like the fourth dimension of getting my dick sucked." Only a few moments of the two of them working him with their mouths makes him come. Even through the condom Kurt can feel the steady stream of semen escaping from Richard's cock, and he and Vanessa keep sucking and licking at him for what seems like forever until he finally goes limp.   
  
"I've never..." Richard says, panting. "Never come like that before." He looks completely spaced out, like he's hallucinating. "My God," he says. "Are you two even real?" Kurt shrugs.   
  
Vanessa smiles and cuddles up to Kurt. He yawns and gently spreads her legs, his fingers slipping inside her as easily as ever. Richard rolls onto his side and loops his arms around Vanessa so that he can handle her breasts, gently squeezing them, fingers tracing circles around her nipples. She is laughing and nuzzling into Kurt's cheek, her tongue occasionally flicking out and tracing his jawline. She spreads her legs further, straddling Kurt's body, so that he can get a deeper angle into her.   
  
"Ooh," she squeaks, "More of that please." Richard is squeezing her arse and pushing her harder onto Kurt's hands. "Oh Kurt, Richard, damn, both of you, either of you, either way." She tightens around Kurt and kisses him hard, pulling their faces together. Kurt flicks his eyes open and sees Richard's lips pressed to the back of Vanessa's neck. Kurt keeps fucking her with his fingers and draws another orgasm out of her. His thumb rubbing against her clit brings a third, and finally she falls back against Richard's body, her arms too limp to hold Kurt tight, resting loosely at his sides instead.  
  
Kurt leans back and closes his eyes. He feels Richard's large, rough hands rubbing under his arms and he stretches back to allow Richard better access. Richard's tongue probes at his lips and he passively lets Richard explore his mouth. He feels the mattress rise under him and realizes Vanessa has slid off, practically dragging herself across the floor toward the synthesizers, like a moth led toward the light. Or a bee toward flowers.   
  
Kurt sleeps even as Richard's hands run all over his body. Occasionally he awakens from strange psychedelic sex dreams to find his dick erect and Richard maybe massaging Kurt's feet, maybe running his bearded cheeks across Kurt's hipbones, maybe kissing Kurt's neck and holding him in those lightly muscled, red-furred arms.  
  
\---  
  
Vanessa stays up all night and well into the next day, unable to sleep and nearly constantly inspired. She takes over Richard's synth collection and more or less turns it into a studio, playing with an old 8-track recorder that lies with its tracks empty among the stacks of machines and equipment. She leaves her clothes in the other room where her two lovers sleep. Despite the fact that it probably makes her a damn dirty hippie, she feels incredibly natural being naked among the machines. Well, there, she's not a hippie; hippies hate machines. She loves machines. She lusts after machines. In the midst of arpeggios and 4/4 drum loops she sometimes stops and masturbates, rubbing herself in time with the computerized beats. She wishes she could actually make love to every single machine in this room but she doesn't want to get Richard's toys dirty, as tempting as it sounds.   
  
Someday she and Kurt are going to get a proper place together with a massive basement full of music making machines instead of the church they squat in, with its dearth of power outlets. They're constantly overloading the grid just running the vacuum cleaner. Vanessa drags the drum tempo down to a soothing ninety-four and pushes one of the ARPs up to double time, making it glitter atop the deep bass. More reverb and she's in dreamland, fantasizing about her and Kurt maybe getting married and traveling all over the world together.   
  
Some time they'll go to Cyprus, where he was born between the orange sun and the white marble and the blue, blue sea. They'll walk tan and naked on the beach, hand in hand. They'll make love on a tiled rooftop and eat calamari on breezy patios. Vanessa likes being near the sea. She almost wishes they would never leave Cornwall's ancient rocky shores, but at the same time she already misses London.   
  
At some point she gets hungry and wanders upstairs to the kitchen where she makes pancakes on the stove. It's already mid-afternoon by then though it feels like early morning. Brushing off the odd time-distortion in her brain, she brings a heaping plate of them down to the spare bedroom. Richard and Kurt are both out cold and they both have erect penises. She shakes her head, smiles, and leaves back for the studio.  
  
In the midst of working on a drum-heavy track, like she imagines maybe the Druids danced to in their nature rituals, she is interrupted by a pair of arms wrapping around her waist. To her surprise, it's not Kurt but Richard.   
  
"Hi," she says, feeling herself flush. He's actually not hard anymore now, and his hair is damp; he must have gone and showered. He's still naked though.   
  
"Thanks for the breakfast," he says. "What are you working on?"   
  
"Fun," she says. He sits down in a chair and she shows him what she has so far. He nods, looking deeply interested. "Do you have any ideas for it?" she asks, her heart pounding at the prospect of collaborating with the Aphex Twin. He shakes his head and she hangs hers.  
  
"I'm sorry, it's just completely unlike anything I've worked on. Much more...primal," he says. "Everything I do is much more mental masturbation."  
  
"Primal was what I was going for," Vanessa says, feeling at least proud that he feels what she feels when she listens to it. "By the way, what did you do with my man?"   
  
"He's in the shower, should be out soon. When do you two have to leave?" he asks.  
  
"Five or so," she says with a bit of regret. "We have a gig tonight in London."   
  
"That should still be enough time for us all to lay something down in the studio," he says with a grin. "Now that I've heard what you can do with these vintage machines I'm really quite excited by the prospect." Hooray, she's going to get her collaboration after all!   
  
The two of them start to work immediately, Vanessa trying to make herself think more like Richard, with his unorthodox squirming basslines. She's so engrossed that she doesn't notice Kurt enter; she can only tell he's joined in when she hears a drumbeat that sounds like it was ripped off Duran Duran and knows it could be no one else. Unlike Richard, he's actually decided to put clothes on, but he's left off his balaclava and so he's showing much more skin than usual. Vanessa runs to his arms and kisses him, while at the same time her hands are finding his hands and the two of them are  _really_  collaborating, guiding each other's fingers to the keys and choosing notes together. This might actually be  _better_  than the unbelievable sex they had last night.  
  
Or is it the same? Kurt and Vanessa thinking as one, with Richard putting in his signature touches, his breakbeat and his quirky sounds, all alien but becoming more and more familiar. Yes, it's just the same as the threesome of bodies—it's a threesome of sounds. Finding the places where they fit in. Trying to surprise and delight each other. Knowing, or getting to know, exactly what turns everyone on. Vanessa has no idea if the tracks they produce will ever be usable, but she loves them and she has a feeling they will always bring her right back here to this productive and sensual afternoon.  
  
They reluctantly leave at a quarter past five. It was meant to be five, but was delayed by a furious session of snogging and groping in the kitchen. Kurt pulls his mask back on, having scrubbed it clean in the sink and left it to dry for a few hours. They climb into the car, Vanessa at the wheel and Kurt in the passenger seat. Vanessa is back in her clothes, but has tossed her sandals in the backseat, enjoying the physicality of working the pedals with her bare feet. They've made a tape of the new music, both Vanessa's and the threesome/collaboration, and it sets the pace for their drive through the English summer evening. Kurt falls asleep on Vanessa's shoulder an hour out of the city, and she switches to the radio, so she picks up the signal for London stations just as the lights begin to appear over the horizon.  
  
Out of the darkness, out of the static, emerges her city.


End file.
